The Epitome of Fail in Fangirls
by Duilin
Summary: Otherwise known as EFF, which always stands for 'EFF OFF MY LEGOLAS.' - To all of you reading and finding this something to continue; sorry I kept you at bay for so long. Hope you enjoy this chapter!
1. Sally is Dead

**Well, I was bored, and decided to write comedy. Or a failed version of it. **_**Anyway**_**, this is an immensely ridiculous fiction that I wrote at 9:03 PM, and I have to admit that I'm starting to regret it. In case you don't like parodies, as that is the only humor I'm capable of putting on paper (otherwise, I'm pretty hilarious in person), then you probably shouldn't read this because:**

1. This makes fun of all the characters from our modern time dropping into the storyline (and I must say that what I have wrote has epically failed).  
>2. There may be a few very creative misspellings that I have purposely put there in Elvish, like Sindarin and Quenya names (I realise Sindarin didn't exactly exist 'back then,' and it only evolved into what it was after mixing with the Silvan dialect).<br>3. Oh, and this might be considered a bit offensive to all the other fictions that involve fangirls dropping in Legolas's world.

**Except this time, we're going to do it with the Silmarillion! And guess _what?_**

**This girl knows absolutely nothing about it! She's a Legolas fangirl too (which, I promise you, I will never,_ ever_ be), which means - **"WHERE'S LEGOLAS?"

**And her name is Sally! Hooray! Now that that's over with, you can start reading. Or, you could have skipped this part and started reading already.**

* * *

><p><em>The Short, Screwed-Up Life of Sally Lissem<em>

Maybe...staying bed would have been better.

If Sally had stayed in bed, she wouldn't have realised that there was a six-feet tall man, with golden hair, standing at her side, face expressionless as he stared down at her. Then again, if she actually _had_ stayed in bed, she would most likely have been raped.

Not that she minded, really. The man reminded her of the dreamiest, most swooning Elf ever, and that was _Legolas_. The epitome of hotness, the zenith of cute, and his eyes had the power to change color!

Of course, she knew that it was really Orlando Bloom playing Legolas, and his eyes certainly did not change color. Sally absolutely did _not_ go online to research Legolas on Wikipedia and found out that they forgot to put in his contacts sometimes... If she hadn't been so pressed up against the TV (she had wasted money buying a flat-screen so his face would be in more resolution and even _bigger_) every time he graced the screen, _she would have still noticed._

Back to the man - he strangely reminded Sally of Legolas, but in a better way. Like...Legolas's hotter older brother, with shinier hair and pretty blue eyes that didn't have to change color to be breathtaking.

She wasn't obsessed. She definitely wasn't.

As she sped down the pathway, wearing her tattered sandals, beautiful people (like Legolas) walked around, and they were all making her self-conscious. She turned to look at a golden-haired female (as she was the only one) and felt herself collide with something. Then, Sally fell back on her rear and winced, winded from the impact. She glanced up at the thing she had run into and saw a considerably tall (but not as tall as the other beautiful people) black-haired male, staring down at her. Like the golden-haired one.

He had blue eyes as well, and his long hair was pulled into a ponytail (despite the fact that some had escaped). Sally could have almost been jealous - not even her dull brown hair could have been that long. She stared back at him, finding difficult instead to _look away_ - unlike meeting his eyes.

Then a hand was slowly extended towards her, and she gawked at it as well, eyes flickering from the hand to his face.

He said something in a wonderfully smooth voice. Either Sally was too dazed, or this was a new language that had come from the island of mystic mermaids. Ariel, after all, had a _great voice!_ She had been Sally's idol when Sally was six - every Halloween, she went as Ariel. Every Halloween, a creepy-ish boy went as Eric.

On Halloween, Sally stopped going as Ariel.

* * *

><p>Duilin faintly wondered if this girl was stupid.<p>

He had simply been walking from Ecthelion's to Glorfindel's, rousing them for morning patrol. Ecthelion had succinctly expressed his annoyance and resistance by throwing a pillow at him - which he, in the whipping-out of a knife, had pinned to the side of the wall, feathers leaking out and floating before falling onto the floor. Duilin decided not to bother and was then (as we resume the storyline right now) walking towards Glorfindel's.

Then, something ran into him, though there was barely any strength in it.

An '_oof!_' was heard, and he looked down, seeing a brown-haired girl on the cobblestone street. She was staring at him, and he felt as if he were being scrutinized. Masking slight surprise, he held out a hand for her to take, waiting for to latch onto it and/or pull herself up. She simply gaped at the hand, as if it were a gift from Eru, bestowed upon her. Her eyes went back and forth from his face to his hand. He resisted the urge to sigh.

"Take my hand," he said.

Her eyes remained fixed on the hand, and she didn't seem to have heard what he told her to do. Upon closer inspection, Duilin saw that her eyes had been glazed over.

* * *

><p>Moments later, the girl was still sitting on the floor, and Glorfindel appeared, eyes narrowed. He saw Duilin and the girl and blinked, wondering what happened. Had he knocked her over? Why was he here? Who was the girl? Why had the girl appeared in his guest bedroom, right in the morning when he suddenly heard a creak from the room to his left?<p>

The unanswerable questions needed answers.

"Duilin."

Duilin looked away from the girl and glanced at Glorfindel. "Ah. You are awake. We have morning patrol. Do you know this girl?" His hand drew back, and the girl's eyes just simply followed, as if she were hypnotized by it. "She ran into me and fell. Then she wouldn't get up."

"I found her in my house."

"Pardon, but did you say you found her in your _house?_"

Glorfindel rolled his eyes. "_Yes_, I _found _her in my _house_. She was in the bed next door to mine, and I heard a strange noise. When I went to examine what happened, it appeared that the empty bed last night was now filled with a girl that looks like she is barely past fourteen summers."

"She certainly isn't an Elf; not even Penlod's daughter is that clumsy, and she's only a summer into her life. Her ears were a fool-proof way of deciding. Apparently, this girl is a human."

"Do you have any ideas as to how she got inside of _Ondolindë? _I thought Egalmoth said there had been no sight of anyone. It would take more than a night to scale the walls, and it would be pure suicide to try and fight Egalmoth's and Galdor's Houses combined."

Glorfindel's eyes flickered back to the girl. She was still sitting on the ground, but her eyes had fixed to Duilin. He almost sighed this time. "We shall have to take her to Turgon. Perhaps he'll know how to deal with her."

"Knowing Turgon, he's going to send her flying off the walls."

"Surely he would not do that."

"A human girl, managing to sneak into the most guarded fortress and hidden city undetected? There is a huge risk here if we refuse to take charge, and Turgon, if you haven't notice, is exactly the type of person to take charge, and do things that his brother would not."

"I'm sure Fingon has mercilessly killed before..."

"Fingon rescued Maedhros."

"Yes, but Turgon built a hidden city, while Fingon would have perused the battlefield and wiped it clear of any orcs, diminishing threat against his own land. Turgon would not take chances - you've seen how protective he is with Aredhel - but he isn't that cruel."

"Aredhel complains to us every day, Glorfindel."

Suddenly, the girl spoke. And the accent was absolutely horrible. It sounded like stone grating on a sword, and Duilin's ears felt as if tiny pinpricks of steel had been stuck in his nerves. Despite that, he remained emotionless. Glorfindel, more or less, slightly winced. But the word was distinguishable enough:

"_Lehgohlass."_

Glorfindel immediately exchanged glances with Duilin. "What in Varda's name did she just say?"

Duilin seemed to be lost in thought, looking up to the sky for answers (it was a bad habit of his, always looking up at the sky before battle; his shoulder got hit with an arrow because he hadn't been paying attention to the battlefield). Then he finally said, "Considering the poor language that we High Elves have taken time to learn, I would say that she is trying to say something about green leaves. And the one we know named after green leaves..."

Unfortunately, the other male Elves of Gondolin received cool names while Laiqalassë received the first thing his mother saw after giving birth to him: a small, green leaf. It had actually been a blue bird, but at the time, her mind was too fuzzy to discern any differences between blue and green, and birds and leaves.

"Let's take her to Turgon," Glorfindel decided.

* * *

><p>King Turgon, High King of the Exalted and Exiled Noldor, had never, in his not-so-long years of living in prosperity of his hidden city, encountered a problem where a human girl (barely old enough to be considered mature) somehow, in some far stretch of imagination that even Eru himself was incapable of, managed to sneak into his city, break into one of his best captains' house, and go by undetected until morning.<p>

His first thought had been, 'We've been discovered. Damn. Now I'll have to move into those stupid caves with Findaráto.'

Then, his more rational second thought was, 'What do I do with her? If this was anyone else, I would have had them executed and sent them off the edge of the high city walls, but this is a girl whom may or may not be innocent, and we don't even know if someone sent her as a silent mercenary...'

Idril, however, was quite beside herself to see a human girl. She had honestly never seen one before, and she had recognised her as the clumsy idiot that ran into Duilin.

"Idril, it's not safe," he had said.

Idril had scoffed. "Father, it's perfectly safe. If the human dares try to harm me, I'll twist her arm off behind her back and feed it to her."

Aredhel had been proud.

Turgon had been faintly disturbed and decided to make Idril spend less time with Glorfindel, Ecthelion, and the other Elf-lords. And her aunt Aredhel, for being a masculine influence in the form of a female Elf. Then again, his plans had never really succeeded, and Idril was even more...well...creative with her ways for torture.

* * *

><p>Sally didn't know what was going on. She was led to this tower, and inside the tower was a giant throne room, almost like a church, where the throne sat on a high altar, light shining in from the colorful tinted windows (and the regular windows, of course). And the person sitting on the throne was just as beautiful as all the others. The world wasn't fair. Why were they all so beautiful?<p>

He said something uncomprehensible.

Sally wasn't sure what he said, but she tried to communicate. "Hi. My name is Sally Lissem, and I'm from America - giant fan of Legolas, by the way - and - well - can you speak English? _En_-_glish._ It's one of the languages that almot every country's learning right now. Do you know where I am?"

Instead of answering, he looked faintly surprised. Then he turned to his guards and muttered something.

In a flash, Sally was forced down aganist the floor, arms tightly held behind her back as her face was forced down onto a red carpet. She tried to look at the person occupying the throne, but her hair was blocking the way. She cursed. The grip only tightened.

Then she screamed. "HELP!"

* * *

><p>Turgon, after hearing her voice, had immediately called the guards to restrain her. Her voice was like the devil - rough, horrible, and absolutely annoying. There was a hint of Sindarin, but that was it, and before she could say anything else, she was down on the floor, with two Elves of Ecthelion's House forcing her against it. Then she said something else, bringing immense discomfort to Turgon's hearing. He flicked his wrist.<p>

The two Elves strengthened their hold.

Then, the most terrifying sound came out of her throat, and his eyes widened.

"That's it; just kill her!" he exclaimed, covering his ears. Only the Valar knew what weapon she had incorperated into her devil's voice. "Throw her off the walls - anything. _Just - get - rid - of - her_."

Turgon heard a faint scream again in a few minutes.

Turgon didn't regret it.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm thinking about turning this into a series of chapters, for a new person each time. I don't know yet.<br>Let's see some feedback on how you think about it, and I'll decide whether or not to continue.**

Good news! I have finished plotting out Twisted Version of Cinderella, which should be finished, hopefully, by the end of this month, or somewhere into the next month.  
>Then, I will probably have to get started on the continuation...shoot.<p>

**(OvO)**


	2. Duilin is Wounded

**So, I'm in Norway, and I read the original chapter for EFF, and I thought - wow, I was pretty hilarious. Unfortunately, my cousin Freyr doesn't think so. Therefore, I decided to prove him wrong by writing another chapter. Welcome, five new girls! But as you know, there are warnings.  
><strong>1. The mocking of fangirls dropping into Legolas's world and it _doesn't_ work out.  
>2. No such creative misspellings now, but curse words. Beware.<br>3. I hurt Duilin. I think I hate myself now.

_Words to Know - Sindarin:_

_Celon: _river

* * *

><p>Duilin blinked groggily as he looked up from his (to his extreme dismay at the time) bound leg. The bandages wrapped around his thigh were splattered with red spots from that damn arrow wound. He really needed to get out of the habit of looking up at the sky at unfortunate, inconvenient times before an arrow—or spear, depending on the skill of the orc—managed to maim him. He was quite surprised to see Glorfindel, holding a bouquet of flowers. And then his fingers curled up tightly into a fist.<p>

He gritted his teeth. "I am not marrying you."

Glorfindel held his hands up exasperatedly. "That was only one time, and I was drunk! My goodness! I only brought the flowers because I thought we should celebrate!"

"Celebrate what? Getting an arrow through the leg and having it broken it two while it was _still_ in my leg?"

"No. Remember, a year ago, on this very same day, when I found that girl?"

"In your room?"

"_No_. In the room next to my room."

Duilin snorted. "She was still in your house. And I wonder how that happened."

"Please, treat this seriously." After receiving a solemn nod from Duilin, Glorfindel continued. "Since she is not here, and there hasn't been another girl popping into my house again, I propose a toast. And of course, I brought flowers for you because your leg looked absolutely gruesome when they removed the arrow. I heard several splinters got caught."

"Worse when they had to disinfect it."

In sympathy, Glorfindel winced. "Well, at least you didn't have to get your arm amputated—poor Celon—and still have to maneuver with a bow. He used his teeth in the end, right?"

"_At_ his end."

"Poor lad."

Duilin, starting to get bored and Glorfindel not helping the situation at all, started to rise from his resting place. Glorfindel placed the homely arrangement of flowers on Duilin's nightstand and helped him to stand. Together they walked outside, Duilin limping and Glorfindel awkwardly hunching over because Duilin was a little short. Or a lot short. But Glorfindel would never dare say that to Duilin's face unless he wanted the same thing that happened to Duilin's leg happen to his face.

"So...where do you want to go?" asked Glorfindel, well aware of the awkward silence. He knew Duilin knew that he was thinking that Duilin was only over a little of the average height for an Elf. "We could always go to the Square of the King."

Duilin shook his head. "Every time I see that fountain, it feels like Turgon is mocking us all."

* * *

><p>Turgon, watching Idril stitching his ceremonial robes calmly, felt the urge to sneeze, but he merely ignored it and continued to watch his daughter. Aredhel, next to them and sitting across from the two, was tailoring her own scarf, occasionally shooting glares at him.<p>

_Eventually, I'm going to break out of Gondolin,_ thought Aredhel, snapping her right needle as she roughly thrust it upward into the fabric.

He could sense his sister's frustration and scooted his seat slightly farther away from the table, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. Idril remained blissfully ignorant and smiled brilliantly up at Turgon as she held up a perfected stitch of the rip that Egalmoth had caused at the last celebration when Glorfindel ("Let's start a chain reaction!") pushed Duilin ("No—Glorfindel—you idiot!"), who stumbled into Pengolodh ("What did I ever do to you, Duilin?"), who was blissfully reading a book but caused Enerdhil ("_I knew I should not have attended!"_) to fall backwards into a drunk Rog (_"Who was it—AHA!"_) who angrily—and blindly—pushed back at who he thought was the culprit, but it turned out to be a table that shoved Ecthelion ("Sorry—argh!") into Egalmoth who was at the time fletching his arrows ("My arrow! Damn you, Ecthelion!"), one of which soared through the air and nearly hit Galdor ("I think...I've had too much...to...drink..."), who blacked out at just the right moment, falling to the floor and dodging the arrow that instead hit Turgon's robes and innovated a tear.

And Penlod was just at home, tending to his sick child. With his wife lovingly stroking his hair and braiding it. (_All the other wives would be so jealous...)_

* * *

><p>"He is," sighed Glorfindel who sat Duilin down on a bench placed conveniently near the town market. "But he's king."<p>

"Right—ow, my leg," hissed Duilin, who shifted slightly and lifted his leg up to the bench, successfully preventing Glorfindel from sitting down next to him. Not that that was his intention. "Stupid orc—I thought we had reached a mutual agreement that we would fire when our commanders _said to do so_. They have no honor."

Glorfindel grinned. "It's alright—Ecthelion avenged your leg after you hit the ground. You did a pretty good job at cutting at their ankles, if that's any consolation."

"It isn't."

* * *

><p>Around five hours later, when Duilin woke up on the bench, he saw Glorfindel standing, alert and eyes wide as he stared intently at something. "What is it, Glorfindel?"<p>

Glorfindel turned back to him with an almost awed look on her face. "Look, Duilin. Five more of those human girls! They're running amok in Gondolin! How did they even _get inside? _Should I go get help and hope that you can fend for yourself or carry you with me to the palace?"

"What do you think?" Duilin responded sarcastically.

"Alright, I'll be right back!"

"No! Damn it, Glorfindel—!" Duilin cut himself off and sighed, placing his interlaced fingers on his gauze-wrapped thigh. Glorfindel was already out of sight. "That idiot. He'll get me killed one day."

And that was the last thing he could say coherently before he was assaulted head on and pushed over with the bench.

* * *

><p>"What do you think we should do with him?" asked Jane. Her molten brown eyes suggested many ideas, but she patiently waited for the other four girls to voice their opinions.<p>

A young girl named Aubrey, no younger than ten but no older than twelve, raised her voice from her mumbling and said, "We could use him as bait..."

And then, the Elf opened his eyes, and they all screamed—until they were silenced by Claire hitting him on his wound with the bat that she had taken from one of the houses. His blue eyes widened with extreme, immense, _colossal_ pain before they abruptly lost light and glazed over.

"I think we should _stop_ harming him first, and then ask him where we are," suggested Adrianne.

Jane nodded. "Alright. Both of your ideas are good, Darwins, Lancaster. Johnson, stop feeling him up. Let's get out of sight first, before that golden-head comes back again. He'll probably bring reinforcements or whatever. Our first priority is to get out of here."

And so Duilin was dragged off, leg repeatedly receiving impact with the ground, by the five girls that came from our world—and will wreak havoc upon Gondolin.

* * *

><p>When Glorfindel returned from the palace, he was surprised to find Duilin gone, and a bat in its place. He blinked, turned around several times, but still could not find Duilin. Did someone help him away, or was he taken by the five girls?<p>

"You look lost, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel almost sighed in relief when he noted it was Ecthelion, with his hair reflecting the sunlight. "I believe that the one who is lost is Duilin. He may have been dragged off by the girls that I saw earlier."

Ecthelion blinked. "You left him _here?_"

"Well, he did tell me to go on ahead, in that no-nonsense voice of his."Yes, Duilin was extremely frightening when it came to that voice. But it was really too bad that Glorfindel couldn't differentiate it from his sarcastic voice.

"Then, I think we may have to commence a search."

"You know that his leg is broken right? I don't think it would be easy for five weak girls to be hauling a wounded, unconscious Elf around Gondolin."

"What makes you think he'll be unconscious?"

Glorfindel snorted. "Come on, Ecthelion. Do you honestly think they'd take him head on? He'd still win, even with that crippling wound on his leg. The only way is to sink as low as Morgoth and surprise him. And they probably used the wound against him, what with this bat lying here uselessly in the dirt."

"Then we must hurry. Let us go back to the palace to report."

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, I know that I didn't introduce one of the five girls. I counted, and I was tearing my hair out at how I should introduce her. So, she'll appear in the next chapter.<br>Oh, and sorry for any grammatical errors. I've noticed lately that my grip on English is getting worse. Let me tell you:  
><strong>When I get out of Norway, I'll probably have to rebuild my English again.

**Happy holidays!  
>God jul!<br>(Even though it isn't time yet...)**


	3. Outside of Gondolin

**Hello! A third chapter!**

* * *

><p>When Duilin woke up, he expected his leg to hurt. What he did not expect was five girls, slumped against two close trees, each of them warily eyeing him like some sort of creature newly come out of Morgoth's evil mouth. He glanced to his left, but peripheral vision only granted so much before he was met with resistance. Testing to see if his wrists were bound together, he gently pulled his hands apart. To his surprise, no such rope existed to serve as a hindrance.<p>

The girls all bore resemblance to that other human from a year ago. Rounded, small ears, short statures. He knew that if he had stood up, he would have towered above all of them. If only he _could_ stand up, what with that stupid injury to his leg.

With communication, Sindarin probably wouldn't work, and Quenya was only allowed in Gondolin—oh goodness, was he even _in_ Gondolin?

How did they even get him outside?

* * *

><p>"He's not in Gondolin," confirmed Ecthelion, leaning against the wall in exhaustion. "I don't understand. Five apparently human girls, and all of them went by undetected into Gondolin and out of it."<p>

Glorfindel moved his sore jaw and winced. "Ow, that woman really hit hard..."

He gingerly felt the bruise and pulled his hand away reluctantly after admitting to himself that touching the damn thing would not make it vanish. If only Ecthelion ("Glorfindel, don't be ridiculous; she is not going to try to decapitate you if you politely ask her if she's seen Duilin and five girls...") had gone into her house instead of Glorfindel ("When I get sliced open with the kitchen knife or something else that causes injury, I'm going to tell you that I told you so.") - perhaps Ecthelion ("Oh no, my lady! Please calm down! We did not mean to break in!") wouldn't have even been struck with a cheese grater.

"This was almost like last year," he continued, folding his arms across his chest in contemplation.

Ecthelion smirked. "When you found the girl in your bed?"

"For the sake of all the good in Gondolin, Ecthelion, damn it. I already told Duilin that she was not in _my_ bed. She was in the bed next door to my room!"

"Right."

"And you were peacefully asleep."

"Actually," said Ecthelion, a grin replacing the smirk, "I threw a pillow at Duilin because he woke me up."

Glorfindel turned away and muttered darkly, "You lazy Elf."

"Well, shall we report to Turgon that no sign of Duilin has been found?"

There was a collective sigh between both of them, and Glorfindel nodded. "You know, normally, we would be panicking..."

"I'm sure Duilin can handle himself. He's the lord of his own House." Ecthelion paused in his statement, glancing around, as if checking to see if Duilin was there, before he added, "Even with a broken leg, his dagger glares are contested by no one."

* * *

><p>"Where the Helcaraxë did all of these orcs come from?" Duilin exclaimed, pulling a dagger from his boot. He quickly turned to the girls. "Okay, climb up the trees, climb up the trees!"<p>

And when they did not respond, but shirked away from his voice and the dark creatures swarming them, he sighed in exasperation, tried to stand up, failed, and ended up falling back down, with an orc tripping over him. At least one of them had enough to common sense to jump onto a low branch! He watched in relief as the remaining four were helped up by each other—but damn it, there were seven orcs here, and only one Elf to deal with them.

This could not, under any circumstances of far-fetched, far-flung thought, be good.

He aimed his dagger at an orc's throat, and it fell.

Six left.

No dagger.

* * *

><p>"Outside of Gondolin?" Turgon repeated. Disbelief colored his voice, and anger colored his face. "Take one phalanx with you and split it into two after you reach the outside."<p>

"It's a day's ride, my lord," Pengolodh reminded him. He sat next to Turgon, writing something down and occasionally dipping the tip of his quill into the ink well. "Even if the girls have escaped Gondolin and can get no further than five kilometers per day, which is quite a ridiculously short distance, they will still be ahead, and by the time they reach Duilin, he may as well be flayed on a tree by orcs who happened upon them in a fortuitous moment."

"We musn't lose hope!" cried Glorfindel, and strode out of the hall, straight to the horse stables.

Ecthelion followed with a soft sigh.

* * *

><p><em>Two more orcs down, but a split lip, woozy head, and bleeding arm,<em> Duilin noted, a grimace on his face. He was standing, at least, but surrounding by four orcs who looked quite ready to avenge their fallen comrades and tear him apart bit by bit.

Quickly, he tore the spear from one orc's grip and clonked it on the head—then proceeded to impale the head of the one to his left and throw it back several feet. He was, however, hit on the head by one of the girls' foot, and he winced, bending down uncomfortably and punching another orc in the face.

Duilin had half a mind to call for back-up, but no one would possibly be able to hear him from here...

* * *

><p>Glorfindel turned to Ecthelion with a grimace. "This is a last resort."<p>

"Last resort? Oh no... You aren't thinking..."

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"But you'll break your leg!"

"Or arm, but then I'll probably be able to find Duilin quicker."

"Glorfindel!"

"Ecthelion, this may be the only way..."

"Fine, I'll ready Noruial."

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, so I didn't introduce the fifth girl in this chapter. Terribly sorry. I might plan on killing them off too.<strong>

**Anyway, Noruial is a horse.**

_Noruial - nor + uial = _fire + twilight


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